


Unfair

by CariniCode



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Eventual Romance, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, Will Add as I go, smut in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-09 15:22:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3254687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CariniCode/pseuds/CariniCode
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tales of Taashath and how he really, really doesn't want to be Herald or Inquisitor but does it anyways, and gets a little lovin' as he goes. </p><p>Collection of one-shots, featuring Male Adaar and some plot-line based drabbles and some prompt based ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Why Me

**Author's Note:**

> Jumping on the bandwagon, as I hear it's a pretty bangin' place to be.  
> Few introductory chapters, so we can all learn about Taashath together, myself included there, then we'll get on to the fun things!

“I... I have never thought to ask your name. It seems unfair to continue referring to you as 'the Prisoner',” Cassandra spoke, hesitant about her chosen topic. 

He could rant for hours about how everything in this situation was _unfair_. The rift in the sky, the mark on his hand, his freedom now bound to this fledgling Inquisition. Of everyone attending the Conclave, why is it that he was the one to bear this strange, magical mark on his hand? No one knew what it was, not the Chantry, not Solas and his seemingly infinite knowledge of the Fade, and certainly not him. He didn't want it, and he didn't want to be the Herald of Andraste. He didn't even share their idea of religion, and yet, he now held some high importance to these people. 

“I do not have a name,” he said, breathing out his nose and letting go of the almost manic feelings inside him. There were thousands of questions rattling around inside him, but he knew Cassandra had no answers for him—it wouldn't be right for him to take anything out on her. 

“You... do not?” she asked, and if he listened closely, he could hear the curiosity. Their relationship hadn't started out well—she blamed him for the Divine's death and the explosion at the Conclave, and for all he knew, he truly did kill the Divine. His careless attitude had only angered her, and at the time he saw Cassandra as nothing more than a buzzing gnat; it changed when they were forced to fight together or die together while reclaiming the Valley. Interesting how demons and small rifts aided people to get over their differences. 

“There are no names under the Qun,” he explained, keeping his back to her and wondering why he had ever agreed to stay with this Inquisition in the first place. They said he could leave, so why, exactly, hadn't he? 

“I was under the impression you were Tal-Vashoth.” 

“I have indeed abandoned the Qun,” he agreed, smartly choosing not to think on _that_ topic. 

“Well, what do you wish to be called, then?” 

Though he had abandoned the Qun, a lot of people he encountered tended to address him by his job title—referring to him as 'mercenary' or 'spell-caster,'—but he supposed if he didn't provide Cassandra with a name, she would only continue to call him Herald, and he detested that. She may believe her Maker sent him or Andraste guided him, but he did not and would not encourage such belief. 

“Taashath,” he said. “I will go by Taashath.” In Qunlat, it meant 'calm', which was what he would strive to be in these coming months, because no doubt the Inquisition and it's goals would push his limits and temper.


	2. Still Here... For Some Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taas meets Iron Bull and is absolutely terrified!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, on a side note, I'm not beta reading these/don't have anyone looking these over. So, terribly sorry about the mistakes!

The trip to Val Royeaux had accomplished absolutely nothing, and it left him frustrated—he didn't have any high expectations, but part of him hoped that they'd walk away with some alliance or idea of how to secure one. Instead, all they had were Templars who abandoned the Chantry (who still hated him and thought him a heretic). Cassandra was still optimistic that someone in the Templar order would be interested in aiding them, but he was pessimistic after the brief conversation that seemed to be nothing more than a show of power. 

Though the Chantry sister hadn't shown him any kindness, Taashath approached to help her up after the Templar had knocked her clean out with a single blow. 

“Do not touch me,” she snarled at him, and Taashath stopped a foot away, Cassandra, Solas, and Varric a few feet behind him. “I do not believe Andraste would choose a Qunari mage as her Herald, I am no fool. Now the Templar order has abandoned us. Madness.” 

Taashath bit his tongue, choosing silence over his initial instinct to tell the woman that he didn't believe Andraste was guiding him, either. Cassandra got huffy whenever he denied the Maker's existence or had anything negative to say about Andraste, so for the sake of placating her, he ceased making such comments. Not to mention, it likely wouldn't make him any friends with the Chantry if he flat out told them this was all idiocy and he wasn't Andraste's Herald. 

“Do you know anymore about the Templars and their choice to abandon Val Royeaux?” he asked, watching as the sister's fellow cleric helped her up. 

“No,” she answered flatly. “I could have never seen this coming. No one could have.” 

Deciding that the conversation wasn't going to wield any results, Taashath announced they were heading back to Haven. After he acquired a few of the fluffy little cakes he saw on the other side of the square, because it was just a cake sort of day. 

Despite Cassandra's disagreement on the cakes (“There are better things to spend our funds on, like boots, Taashath.” There were a lot of things Cassandra disagreed with) he purchased a few and tucked them away for later, and spoke with a few of the people around Val Royeaux—those who weren't afraid of speaking to a Qunari mage, of course. There was a woman who wanted to join the Inquisition, a man who offered some gossip, and a few shop keeps who tried to persuade Taashath into a new staff or robe. After spending most of the morning there, Taashath herded his people towards the gate to leave.

Only to be stopped by an arrow that almost struck him in the foot.

“I think it's a little early for assassination attempts,” Varric stated, watching as Taashath pulled the arrow out of the ground and yanked the not off it. 

“It's never too early for assassination,” he said simply. After fleeing the Arvaarads, there were quite a few of the Qun who had come after him, and Taashath wasn't sure if it was good or bad luck that he survived the encounters. 

The notes eventually led him to Sera, an elven archer with interesting connections and a desire to join the Inquisition. The girl was a handful, honestly, but Taashath didn't see any reason to reject her. If she wanted to help close the hole in the sky, who was he to turn away her aid? Solas had a few choice words about her, but the Vashoth ignored them, for the most part.   
They began the trek back afterwards, and upon arrival back at Haven, he wasn't surprised to learn that the advisers knew what had transpired. 

“It's a shame the Templars have abandoned their senses as well as the Capital,” Cullen remarked. 

“I was hoping to walk away with an alliance of some sort,” Taashath told him. “Instead we have nothing from the Templars, except more disdain, and a maybe from the mages.” 

Grand Enchanter Fiona had approached them before leaving, expressing how she might be willing to aid the Inquisition. Might. Taashath had reminded himself several times that frustration did not help negotiations. 

“The mages are desperate,” Cassandra answered.

“So more willing to aid our cause, given the price is right?” Taashath guessed. If the Inquisition could offer the mages some incentive, and secure their aid, then they could close the breech and he could drop off the face of the map. He was with them to close the hole in the sky, and no more; he was only staying for that because it seemed he was the only one who could do a damn thing about it. 

“But what price is too much?” Cullen said, shaking his head.

“Protection from the Templars would be a start, perhaps even abolishing circles,” Leliana supplied. Taashath had mixed feeling on the Circle of Magi. Compared to what he went through as a Saarebas, the mages in the south had an easy life, but at the same time, most did not want to be there, hence the war. 

“And let abominations run amok?” Cullen challenged, and Taashath saw the immediate need to step in lest they devolve into nothing but an argument. Again. 

“As of right now, no decisions have been made,” he said, a tone of finality to his voice. “We don't know what the Templars are doing, and we don't know what the mages want. There's no point in fighting over negotiations that haven't even begun.” 

Cullen merely nodded, relenting. “I'm not sure we have enough influence to approach the Order safely,” he stated. 

“Then the Inquisition needs more agents,” Cassandra spoke, and at that moment, Taashath stopped listening. 

He was becoming more and more invested by the hour, and was far beyond his comfort zone. After killing his Arvaarad and escaping the others, Taas had limited contact with other people simply because he couldn't trust them. Now, he was forced to trust Cassandra and others while in combat and in the decision making process—he needed to trust that Leliana hadn't sent word to the Ben-Hassrath to have him found and executed, needed to trust Cassandra wasn't going to turn her blade on him instead of their enemy; it was more trust than he knew how to give and it made him uncomfortable to have to rely on others. 

After leaving their company, Taas found himself stopped by a young soldier waiting just outside. At first glance, he wasn't sure whether or not he was speaking with a male or female human, but thought the person attractive either way—something about the cheekbones. 

“I have a message for the Inquisition, but I'm having trouble getting anyone to talk to me,” the warrior spoke. 

“I suppose I'm technically the Inquisition, so, let's hear it,” he said, almost forlornly. 

“Name is Cremisius Aclassi. My mercenary band, Bull's Chargers, have word on a group of Tevinter mages on the Storm Coast. We're offering this information to the Inquisition free of charge—come out and see us fight, maybe you'll find us useful.” 

After working as a mercenary for a few years, Taas knew personally how useful they could be. He also knew how much they could completely screw things. 

“Sure, kid,” he said, watching the warrior cock an eyebrow at the name. “Tell me about your boss.” 

“Name's the Iron Bull. He's a Qunari, like you. Leads from the front, better than a lot of other merc's I worked for.” 

Taashath was a little hung up on the information of the mercenary leader being Qunari. He avoided those of his race like the Blight—there was no telling if it was a Tal-Vashoth, or someone of the Ben-Hassrath, and he didn't particularly want to encounter either. But if this Qunari was leading a mercenary band, it was more likely that he was Tal-Vashoth than Ben-Hassrath. Or so Taas hoped.

Taas had never been to the Storm Coast, and there was a good reason why—the never ending downpour. Within five minutes they were soaked to the very core, miserable, and Taas was once against doubting his life choices. The Inquisition camp wasn't far from the coast and where Bull's Chargers information brought them, and without even getting close Taas could see the Qunari clear across the field. 

“Chargers, stand down!” the Qunari, Iron Bull, shouted to his team once the final Tevinter mage had been killed. He gave orders to his second—Krem, who he identified as male—to ensure the mages were dead before turning his attention to Taashath who was, in all honesty, terrified. 

“Hot damn, it's true,” he laughed, and Taas forced himself to remain relaxed and keep his magic tamed—there was no need to panic just because this was the first Qunari he'd met in years. “The Chantry must love you.” 

“Every bit, magic and horns included,” he forced out, keeping his voice level. Calm, he reminded himself. Calm. 

“A Qunari mercenary is the Herald of Andraste, who'd a thought?” For some reason Taas couldn't fathom, the entire situation seemed comical to the Iron Bull. It certainly wasn't comical to him—in fact, it still had yet to be less terrifying. A large part of Taas was still convinced that Iron Bull would kill him within the next few minutes; the other Qunari certainly had a muscle and height advantage over him. 

“Certainly not me,” he replied dryly, walking when the Qunari gestured for him to walk away from the others. This was it, he thought, he was going to be slaughtered for abandoning the Qun, for killing his Arvaarad, and for just being born with magic—and for some reason he couldn't fathom, he was too weak to just run. 

Instead of swinging his large axe and cutting Taas down, Iron Bull took a seat on a rock, making himself far less imposing but no less terrifying to the Tal-Vashoth. 

“You remember my lieutenant,” he spoke. 

“Good to see you again,” Krem greeted, while Taas contemplated his chances of swimming away. “Throatcutters are done, chief.” 

There was a bit of banter between them while Taas checked on his team visually—Cassandra was speaking with one of the Chargers, while Solas and Varric were bantering about something off to the side. If—or when—Iron Bull killed him, a tiny part of Taas hoped he spared the others. It was stupid, because there was no reason for them to be killed and Taas may be overreacting in his fear, but he had grown... comfortable, with their presence, despite his unwillingness to trust them. Since he had no choice but to work with them, he had overcome his disdain. 

“...sive, but we're worth it. And I'm sure the Inquisition can afford us,” Iron Bull was saying, and Taas missed most of what the Qunari had said but got the idea. 

“You do have an excellent company,” he allowed. The group worked perfectly with one another, it was almost a flawless routine—and the Inquisition could certainly use them. 

For a moment, Taashath was thinking maybe everything would be all right and that Iron Bull would not split his skull with his axe. “There's one other thing, might piss you off. Ever hear of the Ben-Hassrath?” 

It was almost like Taas' stomach coiled with acid in its purest form. “Of course,” he answered meekly, cursing himself for the obvious weakness. 

“Don't worry, they're more interested in the breach,” Iron Bull stated with a shrug, having obviously noted Taas shutting down. “Besides, I'm sure Seeker over there would gut me before I even thought of cutting you down.” 

Taas liked to hope.


	3. The Mire Incident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really appreciate the comments, I really do!  
> Also, from this point, the chapters are going to be a lot less linear--I also wouldn't mind prompts, if anyone has any laying around!

The Fallow Mire was going on the list of places he'd never voluntarily visit again, right under Val Royeaux. While there weren't nobles to stare at him like he were some kind of monster that snatched children away in the night, the creatures that were likely to steal children were present, and mobbed whenever someone got too close to the water, or, Maker forbid, actually went into it. It didn't help that Taashath wasn't much of a swimmer (not a particular skill the Saarebas needed), and painfully concerned that if he went in much further than ankle-deep, he'd sink like a rock, even if he wasn't weighed down by a heavy weapon like The Iron Bull was. 

Thankfully, a few bridges were in tact across the Mire, leaving them with some means of safe travel while they searched for the missing Inquisition soldiers. With him was Cassandra, Varric, and against his better judgment, Iron Bull. Since bringing him and the Chargers into the Inquisition, Taas hadn't really interacted with the Qunari, choosing instead to remain on the other side of Haven, but after the scouts warned him that some Avvar sought his death for being the Herald of Andraste, well, he decided having Bull along wouldn't be such a bad idea. Hopefully. 

They were crossing one of the more rickety bridges erected over the bog when a noise sounding suspiciously like cracking wood echoed through the quiet air, causing them to pause—in the next instance, however, part of the bridge was snapping and both Taas and Bull were dropped into the murky waters below. On the upside, it wasn't more than waste deep. On the downside, it woke every undead within ten yards. 

“Just hold on!” Cassandra shouted from above them, her and Varric moving to get off the bridge and assist. 

Taas already had his staff equipped and was proceeding to set fire to the undead closest to him while Bull began to cut them down with his axe—it was only a handful of seconds before they were surrounded, and Taas was doing his best to fend them off without accidentally setting his companion on fire. It seemed every movement only brought more of them.

“We need to get out of the bog!” he shouted, smashing his staff into one of the undead's helmet when it got too close to him. 

“Lead the way, boss!” 

Taashath was _incredibly_ uncomfortable with Bull referring to him as any sort of leader, especially one with power over the Qunari, but pushed the feelings away in favor of focusing on survival. Using a blast of fire to clear an opening, he ran past some of the undead towards the closest parcel of land and could hear Bull following after—just as he stepped out of the water, however, a terror demon was popping out of the ground and sending him flying backwards into Bull and the bog. 

“Damn things,” he growled, choking up the bog water he swallowed and realizing he was seated right in Bull's lap. Face heating, he was quick to get up while trying not to press more of his weight into the Qunari—Bull hardly looked bothered, his attention on the undead that were closing in behind them. 

Reunited with Cassandra and Varric, Taas was able to close the newly discovered rift while simultaneously fighting off demons and the undead. When the last fell, the Saarebas dispelled the residue magic he had gathered, and let out a long breath of relief. 

“Lucky you didn't gauge out his other eye with your horns,” Varric teased, smirking at the Herald. Taas felt the flush renew, but hoped his dark skin hid it as he glanced to Bull. He didn't have much in the way of horns—once there were four, but now he only had one full one left, while the other three were cut at varying lengths, making him appear a little lopsided. Unlike Iron Bull, his two larger horns had shaped over the back of his skull, while the two smaller ones had curled beside his ears like a rams. 

“Nah, take more than that to get my other eye,” Bull answered with a grin and a shrug. 

Taas just nodded, unsure of what else to say, and Cassandra blessedly suggested they continue forward in their search.


End file.
